Today I spoke at fair length to a marine of twelve years who has fought in Afghanistan and Iraq and who despises his boss the current President with a white-hot burning passion. He harbors the kind of hatred I suppose you feel when you're forced to toss grenades at ten-year-old Iraqi children who come at you with AK-47s, probably because their families were killed in the name of a war fought for money and oil.

God, I felt like a vampire listening to him, sucking up every word he said. Coolest marine ever.

Cold Turkey -- Kurt Vonnegut. This is old, and I had read it before, but it's making the MySpace rounds, so I suppose I should post it in case there's anyone out there who hasn't seen it yet.

In the past few days, since the Gaza Strip has gone completely to shit again, I've been hearing a lot of the voice of the spokesman for the Israeli Foreign Ministry, Mark Regev, on NPR. "Hey," I thought to myself as I digested his hardline defense of Israel's actions, "he reminds me of the motherland." Sure enough, it seems he grew up in Australia, and moved to Israel after getting his bachelor's degree at Melbourne Uni.

Things are going well. I'm basically working on the house every minute I can, and cutting into most of my sleep time as well. We now have a working bathtub/shower. I'm quite proud of myself - in a day and a half, I have become a plumber. Matt and I soldered a two-handle tub-shower connection to the supply lines(and re-soldered the joints that leaked), then I installed the head, taps and valve. Getting the steel bathtub into place in a solo effort while Matt was working and constructing a ledge was something of a task, but I managed. And finally, today I installed the drain and overflow, which was more difficult than I first thought because our DMV pipe is 1.25-inch instead of the standard 1.5-inch.

I almost set the house on fire with a propane torch mucking around with that drain pipe. Luckily I noticed as soon as the insulation began to smoke, and although there was no further danger, I felt it necessary to give the area a very quick blast with a fire extinguisher, just in case. Man, the stuff inside fire extinguishers stings your lungs.

I swear that's been my only near-disaster in the last two weeks, and I probably over-reacted.

Oh, I also learned today that heating Copper Bond to remove a join as directed in the instructions releases large amounts of the most revolting toxic fumes. Maybe they should mention that in the literature.

Anyway, next up is a toilet. I have to tile the floor first to bring it up to the level of the flange, so until then, the buckets are still unfortunately coming in very handy.

I read this article this morning and was quite ashamed of my home country. The whole issue of censorship and the weeping unstable mothers who demand that everyone else parent their children for them are really getting to me lately. The other day at WITF, we hosted a satellite uplink to that new gaming cable channel, G4. A 50-ish mother (who works in IT, apparently) appeared by remote on some talk show, insisting that gaming companies take responsibility for their "addictive" products because her son had become an Everquest junkie. Here's a clue, dumbass: the responsibility is his and yours. Not the fucking game creators. You know, personal fucking responsibility. Remember that?

I don't understand how people like her can harp on and on about how someone should "take responsibility" without realizing how horrifically ironic it is to do so.

Worse still, I think her son was actually over 18. Listen lady, you want him to quit playing Everquest online 24-7? Kick him out of the fucking house and make him get a real job.

My brain is pretty much gone. Stinking hot weather. Spent all day in the bathroom. Bought a tub for $5 because of a little damage. Put together the plumbing. It leaks. Need to fix that tomorrow, then install the tub, and then I might even be able to take a shower.

We pee in a bucket.

There is superfast fiber optic internet, though. Thus proving that I can live without a toilet, as long as I have the internet.

Oh yeah, saw myself in Harrisburg Magazine, looking very shiny and somewhat sheepish. Huzzah, I am one of three finalists, and will be in next month's issue too. I have to wear a nude thong to the photoshoot, and I'm not allowed to wear colored nail polish. I wonder if they'll mind if there's large quantities of grey thinset mortar under my nails instead? And also probably in my coinslot?

THINGS TO DO BEFORE DYING

I saw a wandering black bear on the side of the road on the way to the Pittsburgh show yesterday. That was also pretty awesome. Yesterday ranks as one of the most awesome days ever, actually. Heh, you may be able to hear my voice here.

Trent's first words upon meeting me were "You exist!" which goes some way towards describing the ridiculously elongated state of limbo in which I've been stuck. Now I can finally look my friends in the eye without fear of shame or biting rejection! Alleluia! Allah akbar! Ia, Ia, Cthulhu f'taghn! Life is sweet.

Praise be to Meathead (now three cubed years old), Cliff, Rob, and Matt, or as I prefer, Mormolyke's Personal Starlight Foundation.

For those who were worried about the flooding, never fear, after pumping the water out of our basement, our house in Downingtown is good as new. Er, I mean, good as a fixer-upper. Harrisburg wasn't hit as hard as many expected, so our apartment containing all our stuff is dry too.

The Downingtown house is now free of wallpaper in one and a half rooms. However, I had a very interesting experience earlier this week in which I tugged on the basement light pullstring, only to have the entire lightbulb assembly come loose in my hand, leaving rotting exposed live wires protruding from a ceiling beam ... while I was standing in a half-inch puddle of water. After a few moments of frozen shock (figuratively speaking), I backed slowly away and ran from the room. I was probably never in real danger, but it took a little while to quell my shaking. Electricity is a rush!